Shortaki Prompts
by Polkahotness
Summary: These are the drabbles/oneshots I've written for Shortaki Week on Tumblr! Check them out and enjoy!
1. Fear

Growing up with Helga hasn't been easy. In fact- most of the time it was downright horrible. But through every nickname, cruel prank and poorly-timed joke; through every single emotionally painful thing she tried to humiliate me with, I prevailed as I always did.

With blind optimism.

It was with that blind optimism, which Gerald fondly called 'Happy Ending Syndrome,' I was able to look passed all of Helga's antics and grew up pretty well.

At least, I THOUGHT I grew up pretty well.

But then again, I also thought Helga G. Pataki might make a great date to the school dance this weekend, so I guess you could say my thoughts were a little shotty.

Not that I WOULDN'T go to anything with Helga it's just… Helga is, well, a little feisty and unpredictable. So how would she react to my asking her out anyway?

How would ANYONE react to my asking Helga out? If I could even get the words out, how would I react to asking her out? What would I even SAY?

"Hey, Helga, you look really nice and full of pink. Like wearing a lot… of…" I shook my head and stood up from where I'd been sitting in my desk's chair. Tiredly, I stopped mid-room to run my hands through my messy hair in sort-of frustration.

"Helga- Hi -it's me," I tried again only to scoff out a laugh to myself, "It's me of COURSE it's me. She knows me." Letting out a sigh, I dropped my hands to my sides and took a deep breath while shutting my eyes in concentration.

Mr. Dill, my public speaking professor, had us practice exercises in his class where we imagined a crowd in front of us while going over our speeches. He thought that if we could think through possible outcomes while speaking, we could get rid of the fear we had for public settings.

As I stood in the middle of my room with my eyes closed, I pictured Helga before me in the hallway just outside our science class which we shared.

I pictured her walking into the room as I followed behind her. On most days Helga wore jeans and a tshirt so I pictured her in that with her beanie fitting snug on her head; her pigtails poking out from the bottom. We walk into the room and filter into our seats- mine right beside hers as it's been all semester.

Slowly, I inhale another deep breath and imagine myself twisting in the seat so I can look at Helga who is pulling out her notebook.

"Hey Helga," I greet and imagine her turning to look at me over her shoulder.

"Hey yourself footballface," she says with a smirk on her lips. "Something you need? Class hasn't even STARTED yet."

 _Good possible answer, Helga always says snarky comments when I try to make conversation,_ I told myself with a small laugh before resuming my concentration and picking up where I left off.

"Right, right, I just- well I uh-"

"Spit it out, Arn _old_ o, Criminy I don't have all DAY, ya know." She cuts me off in my head and I try to compose myself as I imagine her usual glare staring me down in my thoughts.

"I guess I just wanted to-to… Look I know it sounds weird but would you maybe want to go to…" Stopping mid-sentence I walk over to my bed and, with a grunt, I dropped down onto it face-first with an exasperated sigh muffling into the sheets.

Who was I kidding, I couldn't ask HELGA out. Even if she DID say yes, why would I WANT to go to a dance with Helga? She'd probably only make the whole night miserable at best. I'd spend the entire time fighting with her about nearly everything like we always do.

But maybe THIS time I could stop the fighting. Maybe this time, if I could just get passed that fear of what everyone would think, I could open my mouth and just say, "Look, you can call me names, tease me, and humiliate me in front of everybody I know, but I know and YOU know that there is someone in there we BOTH like. That I even like… a lot."

I sighed and rolled over onto my back as I lay on my bed and stared up at the window above me.

"It's just Helga," I said to the sky above that had morphed into a bright shade of orange from the sun's setting for the day. "After everything you've been through, what's the fear in Helga? What's the fear in her answer or her opinion or ANYONE'S opinion on me asking her out?" I asked the clouds as they drifted in the sea of orange above me.

Softly, I shut my eyes once more and focused on imagining tomorrow in science class- Helga beside me readying herself for class like we had on so many other days.

With a deep breath, I spit out the words I'd been so afraid of saying.

"Helga," I say and she turns around to look at me quizzically.

"Football-Head," She greets while crossing her arms over her chest. "What can I do ya for?"

I smile to myself before saying boldly, "I was wondering, if you didn't already have a date that is, would you- would you want to go? To the dance I mean. With me?"

Opening my eyes, my grin widens on my face. I'd been so afraid, so fearful of what it was Helga would say or how she'd react or how my CLASSMATES would react and now that I'd finally said the words (even if it WAS just to my ceiling)…

I didn't even care.

Seemed like Mr. Dill had been right about that exercise all along.


	2. Correspondence

_Arnold,_

 _I know your off bonding with your parents or whatever, but I figured by now you might be missing me and needing some Helga G. Pataki-isms to get you through your now-perfect life you got going for yourself._

 _In case you were wondering, I'M doing fine. Not like you've asked or even thought twice about me I'm sure. Not like I've thought twice about YOU. Why would I think about YOU? I mean, CRIMINY, life has been SWELL without you._

 _Heck, life has been downright specTACULAR now that YOU and your stupid footballhead have finally stopped blocking my view in Economics._

 _I do kind of miss the target practice, though. Especially since your buddy Geraldo just isn't as good a sport as you, what can I say. If it is ONE thing you were good for, its that do-gooder thing you always did and your 'positive attitude.'_

 _Gerald just gives me attitude and it really puts a damper on the art of spitballing._

 _So thanks for ruining THAT._

 _Anyway, I'm sure this letter won't even get to you since I'm probably just gonna crumple this up in-_

On cue, I rip the paper from my notebook and smash it into a tightly-wadded ball and toss it into my trashcan sitting next to the desk I was seated at.

"Like I said," i grumbled to myself in the darkness of my room, "Thanks for ruining…everything."

As if Arnold and his beautiful oblong-shaped head could hear me through spoken correspondence half-way across the WORLD.


	3. Starlight

Stars have this weird thing going for them: no matter WHERE YOU ARE, those damn twinkly lights in the sky never seem to change.

Maybe if i was some astrologist or something they would, but to the untrained eye- like my own -stars are a constant.

Stars are like the world's nightlight. No matter how scary or hard or crazy things get down here… we always have the stars.

Not even just US- the WORLD has those stars.

Just like how I have Arnold.

Or HAD anyway.

Ever since he ran off to San Lorenzo with his parents, my sweet prince Arnold, the nightlight of MY world, has flickered out and the monotonous of life has taken over.

But sometimes, when the night has fallen upon me like a blanket and my heart aches for that delicious smelling cornflower hair or those gorgeous green orbs, I force myself up to wander to my room's window. Out in the dark world beyond my little Pataki-prison-cell, I often find my eyes drifting up to the sky where the stars glimmer down below.

It's in THAT STARLIGHT I have found a new nightlight- a nightlight that holds none other than Arnold himself in the glow.

Because IN the dull light cast upon me through the glass of the window I am closest to him. And in that moment, at that EXACT MOMENT, I find myself wondering if he's looking up at the same stars as I and maybe… just maybe… Arnold is thinking of me too.


	4. First Time

He was staring at me.

CRIMINY, why was he STARING at me?!

"What?" I spit out at him with narrowed eyes and an incredibly fast beating heart. If I wasn't careful, it would beat right out of my chest and fall onto the floor in front of me.

"You… you mean that?" Arnold asked me after a beat; his eyebrow raising slightly as he inspected my blank expression.

 _Take it back. For the love of God, TAKE IT BACK!_ My thoughts screamed as I stood frozen in front of him in the empty hallway of Hillwood High. I glanced down at the floor, the tops of my converse staring up at me in silent inanimate judgement.

 _There's still time to FIX THIS, ya DOPE!_

But did I want to? Was it even WORTH it at this point? It isn't like I can pull off anOTHER heat of the moment schpeel; especially at our age.

Nine year olds will believe anything but sixteen year olds? No matter HOW dense Arnold is, even he would be able to see through it this go around and I wasn't in the mood of lying anymore.

I wasn't in the mood to try so hard to keep my secret… if he didn't know yet, maybe NOW was the time to let him believe it. Maybe NOW is the time to just drop the whole bully thing and be… whatever it is I actually am.

I glanced up under my eyelashes to Arnold who was still staring at me with wide eyes; the green of his irises piercing my soul.

"Look, footballhead," I started, the edge in my voice softening, "I uh…I'm gonna be honest with you here." I shoved my hands in my pockets as far as they could go and rocked on my heels once.

"You are?" He asked in surprise and I couldn't help but scowl in his direction.

"YES, I am, DOI, were you not LISTENING?" I snapped; the voice inside my head begging me to calm down.

"Of course I was listening, I'm just a little surprised that you-"

"I meant it," I said loudly to cut him off. "I… I have a lot of… er- feelings for you. Like… a lot." Blush reddened my cheeks and I could feel sweat beginning to flood the palms of my hands.

But I'd SAID it.  
What's done is done and this time- there was NO taking it back.

Not realizing I had shut my eyes for fear of seeing his true reaction, I slowly opened them and peeked to where he was standing with a small smile lighting up his face.

"You… really mean that. You aren't lying." It was a statement. He wasn't asking me anymore or wondering or even considering- he KNEW.

I smirked and shakily reached up to cross my arms over my chest. "Nope. Believe it or not, for the first time in your giant headed life, I'm not fibbing."

And I wasn't.  
Not anymore.


	5. Storm

"Helga?" I asked as she sat outside in the pouring rain that hadn't let up all day.

Shaking, she rose her head up to look at me and frowned. "O-oh. H-he-hey there Arn-Arn-Arnold. What's shak-shaking?" She responded through stutters from the chill of the rain completely soaking her to the bone.

"Looks like you are. What are you doing outside? It's pouring…" I remarked while moving to sit next to her on the stoop of her house. Casually, I adjusted my umbrella to my other hand so I could hold it up over Helga's head.

"Mi-Miriam locked m-m-me ou-out again. Figu-figures." She said while wrapping her arms around each other in an effort to keep her near-convulsing body warm.

"Helga, I told you if that ever happened again, you could come over to the boarding house. That's still true. Just because we're-"

"Le-let me gu-gu-guess," she said as her jaw struggled to stop it's chattering. "Ju-just be-be-because we ar-aren't together any-any-anymore, doesn't m-mean you do-do-don't still care about m-me." She turned to look at me and shook her head with a small laugh. "Y-you're… you're still th-th-the same foot-footballhead-head-ed y-yutz e-even n-now."

With a sigh, I turned to face her and offered a small shrug. "Guess that makes two of us, huh Helga?"

A bright flash of light lit up the sky followed by ear-shattering thunder. The storm that the weather guy predicted would be here soon- and Helga would be outside for all of it.

Not if I had anything to do about it.

"Helga, the storm is getting bad, could you just humor me and come to the boarding house?"

As I expected, she only laughed and shook her head. "Na-nah. Thanks bu-but I'll pa-pass."

"Why? You're going to get sick. And they said the storm would be really bad- it could flood again and-"

"What? You're w-worried about m-m-me? Hmm-mm-mm?" She snapped while turning to face me completely.

"As a matter of fact, Helga, yes- yes I am. Is that so hard to believe?" I countered at a louder volume than I had anticipated.

Another flash of lightening danced through the sky- almost too close to us. The storm was on its way and there was no stopping it. Kind of like the storm that was developing between Helga and I.

"As-as-as a matter o-of f-fact," Helga copied with her usual mocking tone, "It-it is. Seein-seeing as it w-w-was YOU-u-u who b-broke up wi-wi-with m-m-ME. R-r-remem-remember THAT, Sho-shortman?"

I sighed and turned away from her to look out at the empty street ahead. "It isn't like that, Helga. I still love you."

"Sti-sti-still LO-LO-LOVE ME?!" She shouted though I only shut my eyes and refused to look at her. "Yo-you n-n-NE-NEVER loved me l-like I lo-love-loved YOU. You ne-never co-could."

Rain slammed on the umbrella making it hard to keep steady above us. The wind blew drops onto my shoulder making my right side almost as soaked as Helga.

"You're right. I never could. I was never up to your expectations. You made me something I wasn't and-"

"Save it. We-we've ha-had this co-conversation al-already. I do-don't ev-eve-even care anymore any-any-anyway."

"Helga…" I tried as the door behind us opened slowly to reveal her mom looking half-awake.

"Honey what…what are you doing outside? It's raining." Helga's mom slurred as if she'd just woken from a nap.

With a roll of her eyes, Helga turned over her shoulder to call out, "R-re-really? Thanks f-for th-the update, Miri-miriam. I wou-wouldn't have gu-guessed."

She twisted back to me and sighed. "You and y-you co-conscience can b-be on th-th-they're way now, Arnoldo."

With no other option but to nod, she moved from under my umbrella to her mother who was still standing in the doorway. Just as I stood up to leave, she called out after me once more as thunder sounded in the sky once again.

"Hey Arnold," she said, her words soft but stern.

"Yeah Helga?"

"Do me a f-favor and st-stop worrying abou-about me. Okay?"

As if that was something I could just do.

"I…"

"Just try, alright? I'm just fine without you."

She shut the door to leave me in the rain the way I'd found her; my umbrella soon dropping worthlessly to my side.

 _I'm just fine without you,_ she'd said. The words rang in my ears louder than the storm that was only growing more violent with each minute I stood in it's grip. The rain above pelted down on me making small welts on my skin as I stood frozen in front of Helga's door.

Maybe she was fine without me, but the pang in my heart was telling me that maybe it was ME who wasn't fine without her.


	6. Murphy's Law

_**Hey guys! I worked really hard (like 6 hours) on this oneshot for Shortaki Week and I'd really appreciate hearing what you think about it.**_

 _ **thanks and enjoy!**_

 _ **xox**_

 _ **Polkahotness**_

* * *

"Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong"

-Murphy's Law

"Cripes, I gotta be partners with you for THIS?" Helga scoffed once Mr. Elling wrote the two words on the board ahead.

"What's so wrong with 'Murphy's Law?'" I asked with an eyebrow raised while leaning in to whisper the question rather than disturb the entire class with my question. "And... what do _I_ have to do about it?"

She smirked and shook her head while continuing to look ahead at Mr. Elling. "BeCAUSE, Arn _ol_ do," she began a little louder than she'd spoken before. "Have you LOOKED in a mirror lately?"

I frowned and reached up to cross my arms in complete boredom at what Helga was getting at. "Helga. Just because you don't like the shape of my head doesn't mean I won't be any good at this-"

Helga twisted to look at me with an, 'Are You Serious?' sort of look and stared at me for a long moment.

"What?" I asked while feeling uncomfortable under her glare.

"You have NO clue what Murphy's Law is, do ya footballhead?" She stated rather than asked and I had to admit that there was a twitch of defensive feelings bubbling up to the top inside my mind.

"Of _course_ I do, Helga," I said confidently. "Anything that can happen, will happen," I defined, but Helga was already shaking her head. "What _now_?"

"THIS is why you are the WORST partner in the world for whatever this is gonna be about," She said as confidently as when I had defined my apparently-wrong answer.

"But why? What exactly did I get wrong?"

"Because THAT-" she said while pointing up at the board but keeping her eyes on mine "-means 'Whatever can go WRONG, will go wrong.' A-K-A a positive pansy's worst nightmare."

Mr. Elling turned around from the board at last as the bell rang signaling for class to begin- although Helga and I weren't backing down from our conversation.

"Positive Pansy, huh? That's a new one," I commented with false humor in my voice.

"You got THAT right, bucko." Mr. Elling was watching us though Helga didn't seem to notice- or care for that matter -because she only kept talking to fuel the fire being lit between us. "And no positive pansy, footballheaded goody-two-shoes is going to be good to work with on the world's most negative law known to man."

"So I see some of us are FAMILIAR with Murphy's Law?" Mr. Elling asked with his eyes glued directly on Helga who _still_ hadn't backed down from her intense stance on me in our seats.

"For those of you who might NOT be as familiarized as Miss Pataki seems to be," he continued as Helga finally turned to look back at the front of the class, giving me a chance to recover from whatever kind of Pataki-attack I had just undergone, "Murphy's Law can be explained as 'whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.'"

"See?" Helga commented quietly as she sat beside me; just loud enough for me to hear.

Ignoring her, I focused instead on Mr. Elling who only continued to explain our next instructions. "Today, you and your partners will pick one of five experiments to test this weekend either separately or together. You will then record your results and present them in front of the class when we come back on Monday."

 _Great... another project with Helga and another day wasted fighting with her about it the entire time,_ I couldn't help but think. Quickly, I pushed the thought aside in lieu of something... more positive. _Maybe this time won't be so bad, though. Things can change- people can change._

I glanced over to Helga who was zoned out on her notebook below where she looked like she was doodling something just out of my view. After a second, she caught my look and glared my way.

 _Then again..._

"I know, I know," Mr. Elling said, cutting me off from my own thoughts. "What does that have to do with Murphy's Law, right? Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong? Well, in ADDITION to recording results for your findings, you will FIRST come up with a list of POSSIBLE findings- all of which are worst-case-scenario."

Helga smirked beside me and began turning the page of her notebook to a clean one, then jotting down at the top of the page, "Possible Disasters."

Mr. Elling looked around the room at our blank faces before reaching for a stack of papers on his desk and beginning to pass them out to our rows of desks. "This is your worksheet with the list of experiments you can choose from."

As soon as the papers reached everyone, talking ensued and Mr. Elling shouted above the chatter to get his last words in. "Remember to pick a time and way to test your experiments this weekend! Either separately, or on your own!"

I turned to Helga ready to hear her demand we do the project by ourselves, only to be greeted by something entirely different.

"So when do you wanna do this thing? I've got all day. Heck, the more time I spend aWAY from that freakshow I live with, the better." Her tone was so matter-of-fact and with hardly any of her usual attitude that it threw me off.

So I stared at her.

"Uh... Arnold?" She said before raising a hand to wave it in front of my face. "You still with us or what? That head of yours off in a different world again?"

Blinking a few times, I laughed in half-shock before finally saying, "I guess I just thought you'd want to do it by yourself."

"Yeah right, and let you fail the whole thing? Sheesh, Hair Boy, I'm not THAT cruel."

"And what makes you think I'd fail it?" I asked even though I already knew what her answer would be.

"Do we HAVE to go through this again? Or can we just pick the experiment and figure out when to do this thing?"

 _So it begins..._

* * *

Helga wanted to meet at 10am SHARP on Saturday morning.

For someone who claims to be open for anything, she'd sure had a lot of problems with every time _I'd_ chosen, but this _was_ Helga and I hadn't expected anything less from her.

I guess you could say she was, in her own properties, Murphy's Law in human form; a Murphy's Law that had been in my life for nearly all 17 years of it.

So what could be the harm of adding another day?

 _KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!_ The noise of rapping on my door made me shoot up in bed from (what I think was) a nightmare about the green bean applesauce Grandma had made the night before.

"Hey FOOTBALLface, it's eleven o'clock already! Could you get a MOVE on or are you gonna make me wait ALL DAY?" Helga's bullhorned voice hollered through the wood of the door.

"El-eleven?" I asked myself, though she must have heard me through the door.

"Yeah, no duh, Hair Boy. I WOULD just barge in there and PULL you out of bed, but I'm not so sure I want to embark on that journey this early in the morning, thankyouverymuch."

 _Oh boy,_ I thought as I scrambled to jump out of bed and run around my room in search of clothes, _she is NOT in a good mood..._ Then again, Helga rarely was. _What was it that always made her so crabby, anyway?_

"Seriously, you have one minute to slap some clothes on and get out here. I don't have all DAY, ya know."

Grabbing some jeans out of my drawer and pulling them over my boxers, I called back to Helga while zipping them up, "Didn't you tell me yesterday that that's exactly what you _did_ have? All day?"

She seemed to think about this as I pulled out drawer after drawer in search of a clean shirt only to spin around and look at the calendar.

 _Saturday, April 15th_

 _15th_

 _15th_

"Laundry day..." I muttered to myself before Helga's loud knocking woke me up again from my thoughts.

 _KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_ "Just because I don't have a LIFE doesn't mean YOU get to hold it UP, bucko." She shouted, her lecture quickly halted by Grandpa's voice, muffled by distance and my bedroom door.

"Hey- how did you get in here, little girl? You know, in my day, a kid like you could be-"

"CAN IT, old man, I got some business with your grandson in there!" Helga shot back, only making Grandpa laugh from wherever it was he was standing.

"Oh, ho, ho, hey, _I_ know who you are. You're that little girl with the one eyebrow and that big pink bow, aren't you?"

I had to stop this- disaster was already striking and we hadn't even begun the project yet. At the rate the day was already going, maybe we could just present THAT to the class as our example of Murphy's Law.

Grabbing the flannel shirt I wore yesterday that was lying on the floor, I sighed and tossed it over my shoulder before walking to open the door to where Helga was standing.

"Where's your shirt?" She asked with a raised brow which immediately made my cheeks fill with bright red blush.

"I uh... it's laundry day." I answered although my answer wasn't much of an excuse to Helga.

"And I care because...?" She dragged out the end of the word as I struggled to find my own to respond with.

"Well that means," I said as I brought my hand up to awkwardly rub at the back of my neck, "I kind of... don't have a shirt to wear. RIGHT NOW." I added on dramatically only for Helga to roll her eyes and turn around to walk down the steps leading to my room.

"Sounds like you'd better go get yourself a shirt from the laundry room then, huh footballhead?" She turned her head to look at me with a teasing smile over her shoulder before making it to the landing of the stairs and then turning to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

"Helga," I called after her and she turned around to look at me from where she stood just outside the kitchen's entrance. "Wh-where are YOU going?"

"To get myself some grub, DOI. You DO have food in this joint, right?" She pointed her thumb behind herself at the kitchen and began walking backwards to it.

"Uh...yeah, but I thought you wanted-"

"I WANT for you to go get a shirt while I eat so that when you come BACK, we don't have to waste anymore TIME standing here talking when we COULD be doing, oh, I don't know, our PROJECT!" Her words were harsh, though I wasn't phased by them.

In the matter of a minute, she disappeared to the kitchen and opened the fridge leaving me to jog to the laundry room and find a clean shirt.

"Hey Grandma?" I asked as I walked into the laundry room where she was tossing wet clothes into the dryer.

"Oh hello, Arnold. What brings you to the Lost Arc of Ferdinand on this triumphant day? Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

I shook my head, completely immersed in my own problems to try and play along with whatever Grandma was talking about. "No I actually just need a shirt." I pointed to the flannel still draped over my shoulder and sighed. "This is all I have and it's... kind of dirty."

She reached over to yank the shirt from me and inspect it thoroughly. "Hmmm..." She hummed to herself. "I don't have any robes for you to wear right now, soldier, but I can get this stain out in a jiffy!"

Then, with a toss and a splash, she threw the only dry shirt I had left into the washer already filled with new water for the next load of laundry.

"Grandma!" I shouted instinctively, "I-I..."

"Try Colonel Phil up in the chambers- he juuuust might have the right set of threads to help you out, soldier." She brought her hand up to her forehead ready to salute and with a sigh, I followed suit.

Then, painfully, I drug myself back to the kitchen where Helga was eating cereal at the table as Grandpa watched her while holding a cup of orange juice in his hand.

"You know, Shortman, this girlfriend of yours isn't very curteous in other people's houses..." He said with narrowed eyes as Helga shoved a spoonful of sugary cereal into her mouth.

"Gooofwend?" She repeated while nearly choking on her mouthful and coughing loudly for nearly a solid minute. Once she recovered, she took a breath and prepared another spoonful. "I am NOT his girlfriend, are you KIDDING me, old man? I mean CRIMINY, who would- the kid isn't even wearing a SHIRT!" She said while gesturing to where I stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"I thought that's where you WENT."

"No uh... Grandma already has my clothes in the wash."

"And the plaid nightmare you had on your shoulder? Where did THAT go?"

I looked down at my bare feet and wiggled my toes up at myself before replying, "It's in the washer." Looking up, my eyes drifted over to Grandpa who was watching me with a smile on his face. "Grandma said I should...I should ask...YOU for a-a shirt."

* * *

"You look ridiculous."

"Knock it off."

"No, seriously, you have the thing buttoned up to your NECK. It's like you're a football on a pedestal or something. The winning ball displayed for all to see..."

"Helga..."

"You look like you walked out of a movie from the eighteen-hundreds," She continued with a chuckle as we walked to my car which was sitting in the driveway of the boarding house. "Should I call you Sir Arnold? Mister Shortman? OH! I know! How about Lord High Admiral Footballhead-"

I pulled the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the doors to the car with a sigh. "You know, you can stop with the jokes. It's just a shirt." I ducked and slid into the driver's seat; Helga following me on the passenger side.

"Ahh, but where's the fun in THAT, huh?"

Sticking the key in the ignition, I twisted my wrist to start the car.

 _Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck,_ the car sputtered while trying to turn over.

 _This can_ not _be happening..._

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried once again.

 _Tck, tck, tck, tck, tck,_ it spit once again and I dropped my hands in defeat on my lap.

The car filled with silence, the wind blowing the worthless metal car to gently sway back and forth where we sat.

"Man, Arnold. You're having quite the day, aren't you?"

 _You can do this, Arnold. It's not so bad. There isn't rain and there isn't snow or even a cloud in sight- you two can walk to the park. No harm in walking..._

I reached up and tore my keys from the ignition before opening the door and exiting the car- Helga once again following suit.

"Checking the engine?"

"No," I said with a small smile, "We're walking."

"Walking. To the park. You know that's like... five miles from here, right?"

I spun to look at her from where she stood just across from me on the passenger side and said with a slight edge, "What? You have a _better_ idea?"

Which, of course, she didn't.

If it was one thing I'd learned in all my years about Helga, she was really just a lot of talk. I'd never tell her that of course, but it was comforting to know that while she may disagree with my methods or choices or head shape, it wasn't really like she had any other ideas to help fix my decisions/natural genetics.

In knowing all of that, I was able to get away with a lot of things in the Helga department than most people ever could. It was just the kind of...relationship...the two of us had.

 _She_ spent her time trying to make me miserable and _I_ spent _mine_ trying to ignore it and stay positive.

Like I said, she was _my_ Murphy's Law and I was her... _not_ Murphy's Law. That being said, Helga was great at pushing my buttons but today, she didn't seem to have to try that hard to get on my nerves.

She spent the entire walk making jokes about my shirt.

Literally the entire five mile walk.

I didn't even know somebody knew that many Moby Dick jokes or that they even _existed_ , but somewhere under that beanie and those blonde pigtails there was a literary comedian in there just waiting to unload her jokes on a poor, unsuspecting victim.

And today, that victim just so happened to be me- the lovable footballhead.

But I could handle that. I was _used_ to that. There wasn't anything Helga could say to me that would genuinely make me mad- not _about_ me at least.

In fact, in all our years of knowing each other, Helga had only made me genuinely made a handful of times... maybe five at the most.

Well, six, if you count today.

"So what experiment did you want to do?" She'd asked once we got to the park at around 3 in the afternoon.

Slightly out of breath and really agitated by the blister forming at the back of my right heel, I turned to look at her blankly. "I thought we decided yesterday?"

She shook her head and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Nooooo," she dragged out and simplified her tone to me like I was a toddler asking for another snack. "Geez, for a head that big, you'd think you would be able to remember, wouldn't you?"

" _We could do the egg thing again... seeing as it worked so well the LAST time," Helga suggested; the memory flooding back to me._

" _We could use that experience_ alone _as an example of Murphy's Law."_

 _Helga smirked and flipped the worksheet over on the desk. "Yeah, that or the biosphere which was a wild success."_

" _More like a wild disaster. Murphy's Law seems to always find it's way to us, doesn't it?"_

 _Helga swallowed loudly to herself and fidgeted slightly in her desk._

" _Look," she said, quickly changing the subject, "YOU take the sheet home and figure out what YOU want to do- I could care less."_

" _You sure?" I asked as she tossed the paper in my direction._

" _Yeah- what do I care? We'll fill out all the prediction mumbo-jumbo tomorrow. Since I got all day and all."_

The memory flashed before my eyes and I found that my eyes shut on their own as if to shield me from Helga's soon-to-be-reaction at my next statement.

"I uh... I remember now," I said sheepishly, though her tone indicated she didn't know where I was headed.

"Okaaaay... so where is the sheet? We should probably fill that sucker out if we wanna start on this experiment."

My right hand slowly rose to my face and began rubbing at the bridge of my nose as I quietly said, "It's in my room..."

"...WHAT did you say?"

 _Oh God..._

"It's..." I cleared my throat and dropped my arm to my side again before opening my eyes and looking Helga directly in the eyes. "It's in my room- at the boarding house."

She seemed to take it in- the bad news -and then nodded for a moment as if digesting the information. Then, without warning, she exploded.

"You forGOT the WORKSHEET?! After we walked ALL THIS WAY, you FORGOT the damn WORKSHEET?! CRIMINY, footballhead- what the hell is WRONG with you?!" She shoved her way passed me and stomped in the direction of the park's sidewalk leading to the open street.

"Helga- Helga stop!" I called out after her while jogging to catch up. "Where are you going? What are you-"

"I'm getting a TAXI, moron," she stated while ignoring me and waving at an oncoming car. "Which YOU can pay for since this is YOUR mistake."

 _Five miles forward, five miles back,_ I told myself before fighting back the urge to scream and instead focusing on the taxi pulling up to the curb where we were standing.

 _It's only a few bucks and it will calm Helga down- it's no big deal,_ I reminded myself as we sat in the air-conditioned car that drove us to the boarding house. _And besides- you have until Monday. Helga will just have to come over again tomorrow and help you finish the project._

I frowned.

 _Another day...with Helga._

 _Well,_ I decided as the car pulled up to the Sunset Arms, _what's another day added to almost 17 years?_

"That'll be sixteen bucks, kid." The driver said in a gruff voice while reaching his hand back to where Helga and I were seated.

I reached back to dig in my jeans pocket only to widen my eyes at the lack of wallet I was finding.

 _No...no, no, no, no, no, NO,_ I fished in my pocket, around and around, BEGGING for the universe to just let me have this one thing.

This ONE victory on this horrible, horrible day.

But no matter how many prayers or wishes I silently made, my wallet just wasn't in that pocket. Or ANY of my pockets for that matter.

I could feel Helga's eyes hot on me while waiting to find my wallet. She must have felt some kind of pity for me because in a soft voice I heard her whisper, "Arnold... do you not have your wallet or something?"

"No its-its IN here... it ha-has to be..." Beads of sweat were forming at my hairline and I could tell the taxi driver was getting impatient waiting for me as I dug.

"C'mon, kid, I don't got all day..."

 _I don't got all day..._

 _I don't got all day..._

I bit my lip tightly; the pain shooting through to my jaw as I continued to search now more desperately than ever- both the taxi driver and Helga's words from earlier in the day ringing through my head.

 _I don't got all day..._

 _I don't got all day..._

"Do you have the money or not, kid?" He asked again, and that... that was when I broke.

"You know what- I don't think I DO and you wanna know WHY?" I asked loudly as the rest of the taxi's passengers sat quietly around me. "Because EVERYTHING is going wrong for me today. EVERYTHING!" I threw my hands in the air and continued; completely unable to stop my mouth from saying the words I'd been dying to say all day.

"I woke up late. YOU came BANGING on my door and when I TRIED to hurry I didn't have ANY clothes but I couldn't GET any clothes because it was LAUNDRY DAY and Grandma thought we were in England so I had to ask my GRANDPA for a shirt only to get made fun of for FIVE MILES about how STUPID I looked and then RIGHT when we get to the park- I don't even have our STUPID worksheet! So YOU hail a cab, deMAND me to pay for it and then when I go to pull out my wallet from my pocket- it's GONE. GONE!"

I was huffing and puffing from my rant- my lungs hardly able to keep up with my thoughts as I spit them out at impressive speed. "And then to top it all off, all ANYONE keeps telling me is 'I don't have all day.' Well. You know what? I don't have all day EITHER. It isn't like I WANTED to spend my day with you, Helga. And it isn't like I WANTED to forget my wallet so I couldn't pay you- It's just... it's just my..."

I stopped for a moment and glanced around at the taxi driver and Helga who were both staring at me incredulously.

Blush creeped up into my cheeks for the third time that day and, panicked, I whispered, "I'm sorry," before exiting the taxi as fast as I could to walk up to the boarding house only to sit down exhausted on the stoop.

After a minute, which I assume Helga used to pay the taxi driver, she too exited and slammed the door behind her allowing the car to drive off and leave the two of us alone at the stoop.

I cradled my head in my hands as I sat while Helga stood in front of me with her hands shoved in her pockets. "You okay, Arnold?" she asked calmly- a tone I didn't get very often from Helga.

Speaking into my hands, I muffled out, "I'm fine, Helga."

"Really?" She asked again before taking two steps toward me and then sitting beside me on the stoop. "Cause you don't really SEEM fine. I mean... you kinda went ape on a taxi driver for cripes sake."

I lifted my head to turn and look at her and shrugged before returning my gaze to the cement just ahead of me making up the sidewalk. "It's just been... a rough day."

"You're telling me. But I guess everyone needs a Murphy's Law kinda day to really understand the law in the first place." She was calm- half lost in thought.

"I assume you've had a few Murphy's Law days?" I pressed hoping for a glimpse into the exclusive life Helga usually hides from the world.

She nodded her head. "OH yeah. Try every day since I was two."

"That can't be true," I mused although I had the feeling Helga wasn't exaggerating this time.

"Oh yeah? Well it IS, believe it or not. Some days are better than others I guess. Like last Thursday."

Intrigued, I turned to look at her again, quizzically. "What happened on Thursday?"

She shrugged and leaned back to rest on the step behind her while looking up at the sky where dark clouds had begun to fill the open space above. "Miriam didn't wake up AGAIN so I missed my dentist appointment- which really blows cause I've had the most ANNOYING cavity for weeks. Took me months to make that appointment." She shrugged again. "Tried walking but you can only go so fast- ya know?"

I nodded my head and waited for her to continue. After a beat, she took a deep breath and finally went on. "So I just went to school, I guess. I mean- where ELSE was I going to go, right? Miriam was passed out when I left and Bob was off at the office today so school seemed like the least crappy option."

"How did you get to school then? If you didn't have a ride to the dentist and you don't have a car..."

She smirked, "Well, I TRIED to get a bus, but I kinda messed up the times. So I uh..." she reached up to scratch her head. "I called Olga."

"And Olga took you to school?" I pressed, though she only laughed.

"You kidding? No. She spent the whole conversation crying and asking why I never talk to her anymore and asking when I could see her and gushing about her new husband so-so I hung up on her."

"You hung up on your sister? Who _you_ called?" I asked with a smirk.

"Got THAT right," she said immediately as if it was a no-brainer. "I don't need my _per_ fect sister rubbing her _per_ fect life in my face any more than you need another thing going wrong in your day."

I shrugged as I watched sprinkles of rain mist the world around us. "I think I'm over it now. Maybe the bad day is over."

"Sure, Arnold. Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it'll work for YOU better than it does ME." She grumbled while pointing her toe out to a small rock ahead of her and kicking it out onto the street. "What DOES work is having a-a fallback."

"A fallback?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah- a FALLBACK. You know- something to focus on that is so good it makes all the bad sort of... melt away for just a split second and you can be yourself in that moment without all the junk life throws at you."

Her head was tilted up towards the sky; her eyes softly shut as rain softly dripped onto her as she sat on my stoop. She looked content- something Helga didn't usually look when wearing her familiar snarl.

I watched her- content to be -the rain washing away the Helga G. Pataki I'd seen all day and most of my life.

It was a Helga I didn't often get the chance to meet, but many times wished I could... get to know.

"Everybody has crummy days, Arnold," she said after a moment; her eyes blinking open to look up at the sky before turning to look at me. "Anything that can go wrong, really WILL go wrong. I guess... I guess it's just how you deal with it or whatever. I'm a jerk and you... you're just-"

I chuckled softly to myself before finishing for her, "a positive pansy."

Helga offered a nod and then returned her attention back to the sky. "Yeah... a positive pansy."

I sat for a moment while watching Helga be that person she'd surely just talked about. Whatever it was that was _her_ fallback, it was clearly melting away her bad day as we sat quietly beside each other.

I let a few minutes pass before breaking the ice once more. "So that Thursday," I asked, "that...that was it then, right?"

She seemed to think about this for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah. I got home after walking TO school and then hitching a ride with Pheebs to get back... only to discover the door was locked and I didn't have the key."

"Your mom wasn't home?" _How could somebody lock their own daughter out?_

"Are you kidding? Miriam is always either passed out in a drunken stupor or God knows where drinking God knows what." She halted as if she'd said too much, but I knew what her family was like.

I'd always known.

And it had always made me a little sick and completely baffled.

What was it about Helga that her parents could not care for that much?  
Helga was smart- fiercely smart. She never tried in school and always managed A's and at the lowest B's in every class. And Helga was talented in a way parents _wish_ their kids could be. She'd won publications for her poems and short stories in magazines plenty of times, but I only knew this because of Phoebe... Helga didn't talk about it that much.

Helga didn't talk about a lot of things.

So why was she talking with me about them now?

What had I done to get my chance at talking with the real Helga G. Pataki?

"So you were locked out," I continued in an effort to learn as much as I could before Helga shut me out again. "Don't you have your own key?"

She glared up at the sky that was now rumbling with the threat of thunder as sprinkles still fell from the clouds. "Bob took it."

"Why?" I asked, dumbfounded. "I'd think you should be able to have one if you live there."

"Try telling HIM that," she retorted with an acidic tone I imagine was meant more for her father than me.

"Why did he take it?"

As if a switch had been flipped, Helga turned to glare at me while spitting her words at me. "You know, what's with the 411, huh?" She snapped suddenly, making me sit up rigid as she yelled. "Like YOU and your stupid weird-shaped head need to know ANYTHING about my life- you don't KNOW me and- and..." Her eyes softened for a moment and she turned away from me; small rain drops peppering our skin and clothes where we sat.

"You don't have to tell me anything, Helga." I said before sighing and turning to look out at the street as the rain began to pick up.

"But...I-I DO."

"Why do you think that?" I asked and she thought about this before finally turning back to me; her eyes averting from mine.

"Because...because you were having this really bad day and-and I didn't make it any better for you." She was wringing her hands in one another in a nervous gesture I'd never seen her make before. "I, I know I come off a little... ROUGH, but..." She furrowed her brow in deep concentration as she forced the words out of her mouth.

"The truth is, Arnold, I uh... I really don't TRY to be a grade-A bully I just," she sighed in defeat and shook her head- a sign of her giving up on the words she'd been trying to say.

Helga was so strong and so... intimidating most of the time that to see her uneasy was a rare thing to witness and as she continued wringing her hands together, I knew what I needed to do to help- even if it would end up with her yelling at me to buzz off like she had so many times before.

I boldly reached out and set my hand softly on her knee. "It's okay, Helga. I shouldn't have blown up like I did- it isn't like any of today was your fault."

She stared at my hand on her knee as the rain continued down on us softly; Helga's eyes soon flickering up to meet mine.

There was something in her eyes that I wasn't all that familiar with. It was a sort of gentleness that seemed to wash away the discomfort I had previously felt. All of the frustration of the day melted away at her look- a look that told me it was okay, that she'd had worse days- worse than I could even imagine -and they were nothing in comparison to a silly assignment.

Because that's all it really was- a silly assignment. I might not ace it and Helga might not ace it but at the end of the day- it was just a worksheet for a class we'd soon forget about in a few months. But what we _wouldn't_ forget was all the crazy things that had happened today- the mishaps that made the day memorable. It was those mishaps, like so many others before in our lives, that had somehow brought us closer in a way I couldn't even explain let alone understand. As frustrated as Helga made me and as insensitive as she _appeared_ to be, Helga had always been the one to come after me and try to make the mishaps... not so miserable.

It was in that look in her eyes that I knew today wouldn't be just some horrible day full of predictions and things going utterly wrong.

Today, I decided as I made my final Murphy's Law prediction silently in my head, would be memorable.

Memorable like the biosphere had been back in fourth grade.

Memorable like the egg we were supposed to care for and only lost in the process- the both of us learning more about each other than two kids could have ever guessed.

Today, I decided, would be memorable for Murphy's Law or not as I leaned in and kissed Helga in the rain where we sat on my stoop all these years later after the worst day I'd ever had.

I pulled back from her only to see her blue eyes wider than saucers as she looked at me.

"Y-you...you...WHY?" She demanded, though it wasn't the answer I had been expecting.

Again.

It seemed Helga was losing that predictability I had always thought she had, because I hadn't been right about a single prediction when it came to any of her reactions these days.

She was my own Murphy's Law.

And somehow, that only encouraged the feelings coming out of the woodwork as I looked back at her with a smile.

I shrugged my shoulders and smirked. "Anything that can happen, will happen."

She pursed her lips for a moment before huffing and crossing her arms. "Anything that can go WRONG, ya maroon."

But that look in her eyes told me she didn't think my kiss was all that wrong and, I had to admit, it didn't feel all that wrong to me either.

The drizzle of rain let up to a soft sprinkle- our clothes only slightly damp from the almost-rainstorm.

"Whatever you say, Helga," I said as a light blush began to fill in her pale cheeks. "Whatever you say."


	7. Rain

Thumbing through the old journal in a desperate attempt at finding some inspiration, I smirked at the poetry I'd written so long ago; poetry I'd thought at the time was actually GOOD.

Looking back now, it's pretty pathetic but then again- I was only 7 when I started writing and ONLY able to write and read by the grace of Olga and her 17 year-old ambition in teaching her "5 year old baby sister the joys of literature."

So little Helga G. Pataki took one of Olga's journals one day when the inspiration hit. I wrote in that sucker every day until I turned six and ran out paper.

That's when the "Olga Journal Tradition" began.

Every year on my birthday, Olga gives me a journal. Growing up, I'd fill them up so fast, it was a great idea believe it or not. But these days I didn't have the time to write like I used to OR the inspiration and I was probably 4 journals behind.

Writer's block had taken root in my otherwise creative mind like a plague.

I sighed and turned my first notebook to the first page- to the only poem I remember writing in the book. It was called "Rain" and I almost cringe every time I read it.

But then I remember the content, the memory, and I can't help but smile at how important of a memory it was and still is to me years later.

" _Rain"_

 _By: Helga G. Pataki_

 _The rain was cold_

 _And so was I_

 _When he showed up_

 _To stop my cries_

 _The rain was cold_

 _And so was I_

 _But the little boy wasn't_

 _No, he was dry_

 _The rain was cold_

 _And so was I_

 _But then the rain stopped_

 _And I wondered why._

 _So I looked up_

 _To see only blue_

 _The blue of an umbrella_

 _Being held for two_

 _"I like your bow,"_

 _My bow of pink_

 _"It's pink like your pants"_

 _What did I think?_

 _He went inside_

 _The boy named Arnold_

 _The only person_

 _To make the rain not so cold_

I smirked at the poorly spelled words and shook my head while closing the childhood journal.

I remembered trying so hard to find something that rhymed with Arnold- hold and cold the only things I could think of in my 7 year old mind. But all in all- I guess it was a pretty good poem.

I closed my eyes for a moment, the memory I'd recalled so many times slowly coming back to me and the writing itch quickly returned. Instinctively I reached out to pick up a pen and scrambled for a lose sheet of paper before finally settling on one of the 4 empty Olga journals piled on my bookshelf.

Turning the journal to the first page, I began to jot the poem already taking form inside my brain.

" _Rain"_

 _Droplets surround me_

 _Succumb me_

 _Envelop me_

 _Their pitter patter but a song_

 _Pushing me along_

 _When it stopped- it was you_

 _Your yellow hair_

 _Eyes as haunting as air_

 _Holding the umbrella that saved me_

 _In ways one could never see_

 _It was you- always you_

 _Your caring heart_

 _You tear me apart_

 _With the love you have yet to see_

 _A love made by rain_

 _On the day you saved me_

I tore the page from the journal and crumpled it up before stopping to unroll it and read the words I'd just written over again.

It wasn't good.

Not by any means.

The writers block had CLEARLY taken root deep inside of me. But the sheer content- the fact that this was yet another poem of that day on the first page of a new journal, well, I HAD to keep it.

Trying to straighten the paper from the wrinkles I'd given it mere seconds ago, I carefully placed it back in the blank journal where I'd ripped it out of its home.

Another poem about the rain.

Maybe one day, in our distant future, at long last I'll be able to show Arnold the poems he helped to inspire; the poems that have saved my life.

Because HE saved my life.

"Oh," I swooned, "Arnold..."


End file.
